The Earl of Bedlam packed his truck and said 'ello to the Borders

Trunk shows are a traditional route for designers to take their work to fresh territories. Like travelling salesmen, way back in March we packed our bunches of fabric samples, pieces of our work and the trusty tape measure and headed for the bus stop. We needed a blast of fresh air and our boiler was still broken so it couldn't have been colder in Scotland than it was in our flat. Arthur Sweerts invitation to measure him up in situ at his hotel, the Buccleuch (pronounced Buck-looo with a little throat clearing to finish if you want to be really authentic) & Queensberry Arms in Thornhill, Dumfries & Galloway, was all the nudge we needed. The 59 bus took us - and said trunks - from Walnut Tree Walk to Euston where we hopped the train to Lockerbie. Three and a half hours later, Arthur met us at the station. It was as if we'd stepped through a magical revolving door. Not an hour later we were sitting down to a delicious dinner with his papa, Baron "Dolf" Sweerts de Landas Wyborg.  It was through the beneficent patronage of Sweerts pere et fils ("vader en zoon" meme) (Dolf Vader, get outta here!) that we started the year shored up and able to make the "Hell for Leather" collection. 

The next morning Papa Dolf took us up to the castle. At the risk of making this sound like a Transylvanian idyll, the village of Thornhill is cruciform, and above it sits the rose pink ramparts and onion turrets of Drumlanrig, one of the many seats of the Duke of Buccleuch & Queensberry: http://www.drumlanrig.com/.
I consider myself reasonably familiar with the stately homes of these isles but this gem was a revelation. There was nothing about it the slightest bit familiar to me but now, partly thanks to Dolf and Arthur taking over the kitchens, it is going to take its place on your Places to Visit list. The art collection is magnificent. They have a Rembrandt, a Holbein and a Gainsborough. The da Vinci went out through a window some years back so that is now safely in a gallery. Mr Wesley almost went out the same way with the curly horned ram's head snuff receptacle with little silver spoon, nostril duster and moustache brush attached by fine silver chains.

Mr Wesley bows his head before the Rosy Queen of the Borders, Drumlanrig Castle; Dolf in his rosy sweater.

Snow was all around and Dolf took us across to their house to check on the lambs. As many as possible were brought into the sheds, those that had survived being born on the icy ground. Here is my lamb:

At their house we noticed the same style, at once best and beautiful but entirely unselfconscious and comfortable, in harmony with its environment, that distinguishes the hotel. This is the skill of Arthur's mama, Caroline. Outside I took in the family crest in which two satyrs, like the goatish gentlemen on the buttons of the Last Emperor's Opium Smoking Jacket that brought our worlds together, stand either side of the shield. I mentioned it, amazed, to Arthur. "I thought you had chosen them deliberately," he replied. Ah, do not dismiss lightly the fateful properties of Grandma Ella's button box.

One of a pair of glass buttons that adorn Arthur's lavish jacket that combines the curly horned snuff receptacle much admired by Mr Wesley in the castle and Arthur's own heraldic satyrs 

Arthur's dog Merlin came along for some dashing about in the snow. We should make him a coat too:

Back at the BQA Hotel it was time to set out our stall and in no time a huddle of the curious and clothes-inclined amassed.

Arthur went first, then Alasdair the hotel manager, then Harriet the receptionist, then Jeff the waiter, then Stephen the barman, then David the whisky maker (www.creativewhisky.co.uk), then Andrew the estate owner, then Dolf, and last and by all means the most tattooed, came Russell the gamekeeper!

In no time at all it was May and I could think of no better place to spend my birthday, so with Taffy in tow we clickety-clacked back up the track to Scotland. It was that much lighter into the evening and we saw fabulous landscape that had been cloaked in darkness the first time we went up.

What everyone else wanted to see was how their clobber was coming along:

"Mr Whisky" David Stirk

Alasdair the hotel manager

Half belt at the back

A little button stops the pocket sagging

Dolf

 Russell,
game keeper of legend

We love Arthur, he has brought good things to Bedlam so it pleases us to see him smile

Arthur went half'n'half with his lining, one side blue for Scotland, the other orange for Holland

The Dolf Vader himself, who is actually waaaaaay Yoda

Andrew being fitted in his chalk stripe. He has no intention of ever seeing London again before he dies (far off we hope) if he can help it so was glad of our bringing Bedlam to his doorstep

Harriet getting horsey in the "Megan" jacket that has proved to be a winner with the Ladies

So don't simply take take our word for it, check out what they say on Tripadvisor:
http://www.tripadvisor.com/Hotel_Review-g1237035-d628001-Reviews-Buccleuch_Queensberry_Hotel-Thornhill_Dumfries_and_Galloway_Scotland.html

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Arthur with Merlin in the door of the hotel, wearing the hat I made him to go with the jacket

Bird's eye view (possibly a peacock) of the hat

Dolf borrows both Merlin and outfit from Arthur to pose in the door of his fine establishment 

Back South, last week saw a preview of the sale of garden statuary that Dolf & Caroline are having through Christies. If you get your telephone bid in this afternoon, it is going on as I type. Go potty, take a browse through the e-catalogue and treat yourself. You know you've urned it:

http://www.christies.com/eCatalogues/Index.aspx?id=35CC46F04E0A4D0798D50DEA6EF27910

We had a lovely evening as the sun came out at the end of the day, led about the gardens of Dunsborough Park by Arthur. 

http://www.dunsboroughpark.com/

Mr Wesley wore his lilly white dinner jacket with the lucky Japanese goldfish shell buttons, and Arthur, what else, wore his Bedlam jacket.

Eric & Ern take a turn about the urns

Cheeky little cherub, and a statue

Arthur and his hand maidens

Arthur, the finest bloom in the garden, in The Last emperor's Opium Smoking jacket amongst the Orientalis poppies

Last Saturday there was another do to preview the sale at which Bentley rolled out some of their fleet. Mr Wesley put this one on his Christmas list:

Not quite sure how I ended up with this, no room for luggage and extremely drafty on the motorway:

We wish them all the best of luck today as their treasured collection goes under the hammer. We know there is a degree of separation anxiety, kind of like when we create a suit for someone and they come to collect it. My secret bid's down for this red trousered character, here dipping into the curly horned ram's head snuff dispenser. Going once! Going twice! Gone to the lady in the fine tweed tailoring!

Gatsby and Bowie and the Alabama 3

As widely reported, the fastest selling exhibition ever at the Victoria & Albert Museum is the scrapbook of David Bowie's cultural influences. I was privileged to meet him when he recorded with Goldie. He came to our studio at St. Anne's Court, Soho, where his "Hunky Dory" portrait hangs in the stairwell (as he recorded that there years before). We had to stop him washing up the coffee mugs. I wanted to say, "Please don't be 'one of us' - we like you being God". He signed a CD for me (which I really must find, it was sitting about on the desk at the old shop for ages and things had a habit of walking from there). Some years later I went to see Arcade Fire play in Central Park, NY, and, their being his favourite band, DB was the surprise guest for the encore. Afterwards, I shuffled into position to reintroduce myself backstage and he said "Hello Caroline! How's Goldie? Do give him my best!" which was pretty remarkable when you consider the parade of faces that must have stared at him in between our last exchanges.

This week we have delivered our first kilt suit to Scott Rodger, dear friend and old colleague from One Little Indian Records. He is deservedly the predominant music manager in the world these days. Arcade Fire is one of his, as is Paul McCartney. After we had the last fitting for the suit - commissioned for his brother's wedding today in Scotland for which we raise a lusty "HURRAH!" - Scott kindly offered me his other ticket for the Bowie exhibition and we spent a good two and a half hours rapt around Bowie's brain. On display was a letter from Decca Records when it used to have its HQ at the Albert Embankment, just minutes walk from the Mews. Never knew that.
Potentially the most useful exhibit for us was this - David's measurements in a notebook from the 1970s:

A few days before seeing the show, I had enjoyed lunch with Nile Rodger's consort Nancy Hunt in London and she had come to the restaurant straight from the exhibition, in something of a funk about it. The absence of "Let's Dance", Bowie's biggest selling album - other than a short burst of music in the headset as you move around - had her upset. I don't like Nancy to be upset, so I looked for an answer to that and it did seem to be the exhibition was about elements that had inspired him rather than the influence he wrought. Of course, he was inspired by Nile's commercial success to engage him to make the album and that that was the case is recounted wryly in Nile's autobiography when he writes how, on getting the gig, he excitedly looked forward to his first art house record while Bowie simultaneously thought, "YES! Pop hits for me!"

Bowie's quilted Liberty print suit

We stood outside the museum, on the pavement of the Brompton Road afterwards and agreed we are both lucky to have, never mind met him, but to have grown up to his music rather than Katie Perry. But we left on a poignant "what-will-become-of-the-human-race" note when Scott revealed a girl at his barber shop earlier had not known who David Bowie is. We shook our heads in some shared sorrow and said our goodnights.

Back in the hot house of the Bedlam studio, Scott's rock 'n' roll kilt suit was taking form rapidly. The brief was to avoid the shortbread tin look and find a tartan that was predominantly black. Nothing could have fitted that better that the "Dark Douglas", a weave that looks black from one angle, only to reveal its plaid secret when the light hits from another angle. Now it was coming together with a slightly feverish timeline after a hiccup when the first length of cloth was delivered, thanks to a dying mishap, with a barely perceptible weave - it was, in other words, just black. Now we had a lighter weight cloth than we had intended to use but that was not an issue - he's not going to stride about the moors in it. The stealth chic of the tartan was what we were after.

The kilt was made entirely from the Dark Douglas and we used it for the cuffs, lapels and pocket flaps of the jacket, as well as the belt at the back, all fastened with real horn buckles. Scott had requested silver skull buttons and you'd think that would be easy enough to find, being such a universally popular motif. Not a bit of it. Our lovely landlord Paul makes models for TV and film shoots in the studio below ours and we were investigating the possibilities of casting our own in his workshop when one day a gentleman walked up our stairs to present his glass cufflinks. Being ex-army he specialises in regimental and family crests. I was about to thank him while explaining we don't really carry other people's stuff so much now we are not a shop, when a skull shaped lightbulb came on in my brain. A few weeks later Stuart Goodings sent our beautiful black glass buttons with silver skull inset. Check out what he can do: www.militaryjewellery.com

The especially commissioned black glass buttons with silver skull head

Pocket flaps with traditional rib details

One of the three real horn buttons used in the suit

The Angel of the South with the best kilt to ever be exported north!

So here was the happy satisfaction after the first fitting:

And this splendid photo has just zinged down the wire, and given us goose bumps of pride. Our first kilt suit, and Scott's first indeed, and certainly our first sock tassels!

Next this week we got the call to dress up Rob Spragg a.k.a. The Very Rev. Larry Love in his Brixton video shoot. Rob is lead singer in Alabama 3 (or A3 as they are known in the USA). I used to run around at their behest when they were signed to One Little Indian Records, greatest label in the world.  If you don't know their name(s) you almost certainly know their song that was used as the theme music to the TV show "The Sopranos":

He looked sizzlingly sinister in the grey chalk stripe "Tectonic". Rob proudly boasts that he has maintained his "toxic physique" and we had to take in the trousers to show off his 32" waist. Trust me, wheat grass shots have nothing to do with it.

On set, in costume

The director gives notes

We finally got our own chance to dress up this week when our guardian angel, Laura Symmons, pre-eminent press agent in London - who has taken us on as some sort of community service, working out her debt to society by helping the media disadvantaged - presented us with tickets to the "soft"premiere of "The Great Gatsby" (Cannes gets to host the proper bells'n'whistles premiere). 

I got in a fabulous flap, in the 1920s blue and black bugle beaded flapper dress graciously gifted by Madame Randolfi Favel of Prada and my sumptuous blue velvet coat with stand up collar, from lovely Nikki's Revival vintage store in LA www.revivalvintagela.com

Muccia Prada did the costumes for the film, and the daywear of Daisy's golfing girlfriend, not to mention her millinery, got my motor running. But I suspect the film's greatest achievement will be driving people back to the Robert Redford-starring 1974 version for which Theoni Aldredge designed the costumes, winning an Academy Award for her work.

In the latest version Leonardo diCaprio gives a truly fine performance that withstands the onslaught of gadgetry and noise as chucked at every frame by Baz Luhrman. We left seasick and head achy, suffering an OD of 3D even though we had removed the glasses by the end. People staggered from the cinema like they had just ridden the Cyclone at Coney Island, or Stealth at Thorpe Park (Harry just gave me that more youthful reference, thanks Harry). Carey Mulligan is not as convincing as Mia in the role of Daisy because she seems too smart and engaged, and you can't credit she could be so fickle whereas Mia is like a dandelion puff so it works. The anachronistic inclusion of "Crazy in Love" in the soundtrack and other hip hop-isms, whether jazz-aged up or not, betray the hand of Exec Prod Jay Z. They should have let Bryan Ferry do it all. Toby McGuire makes a great I-am-a-Camera-cypher and the golfing chum, Elizabeth / Jordan, has a profile and presence to rival Angelica Houston. Note to director - a great story and cast, don't NEED all that. My leading man looked like a matinée idol and several gentleman in the audience announced, "I want that coat" pointing at him, not the screen:

Mr Wesley in his Harris Tweed "Jay B" NOT "Jay G" overcoat, "Mr Harrop" waistcoat, "King of Threads" cords and New York 8-pleat Newsboy cap

The OBE is awarded to Nile Rodgers

For once I am posting in a timely and topical manner. This week sees Nile Rodgers at the top of the UK charts with Daft Punk's "Get Lucky" and this has caused something of a feel good glow across the nation.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/music/2013/apr/27/daft-punk-nile-rodgers-disco

You can hear Nile talking about it here, (hoping the audio doesn't expire after a week? If it does that'll teach you to log in here more regularly):
http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p018bq4p

But while it is a great achievement to reach the # 1 spot at the top of the charts, many people have done it of course. Only one, however, can be the 800th "Likee" of the Earl of Bedlam Facebook page. And that man is Nile Rodgers. In recognition of this milestone, we have created the highest honour bestowable by Bedlam - the OBE, which is to say, by Order of the Bedlam Empire. It is a rosette made of fine English "Amadeus" wool, embellished with a fine gauge 8 guitar string that can actually be twanged:

Pinned to the "Tectonic" suit in J&J Minnis chalk stripe flannel

And here is the track itself, featuring Pharrell Williams on smoothy vocals:

I had a jolly nice time lunching with Nancy, Nile's consort, today. She's in London in her role as President of their charity, the We Are Family Foundation.  The inspiring work they do is another reason for creating the gong, and she deserves one for herself. They set up the initiative in response to 9/11, an attempt to create a network of teenagers around the world from different cultures who would communicate and co-operate, taking those principals into their adult life. Nancy and I concluded our  deliberations by agreeing its all about the story - by engaging the other guy and getting them to understand your authentic story.  
www.wearefamilyfoundation.org

www.threedotdash.org

www.tedxteen.com